#this is literally my fucking resting face fuck off!!!!!!

[arminsumi]

... hubby!Gojo with a huge breeding kink who just obsesses over you when you're ovulating and can't think about anything else but fucking a baby into your hips.

+ warnings; mdni, breeding kink, some dumbification

+ an; I literally had this idea in my drafts for a year... 😳

Maybe he's got a freaky sixth sense, maybe it's just because he's got heightened senses, or maybe there's some scientific studies to back it up; but Gojo can smell when you're ovulating. And it turns him on — of course it does. He has a bigger breeding kink than you do.

"Oh, you're ovulating." he notes after sniffing your skin... and you do a double take like he's insane. Because he is insane — you married a madman.

He pays closer attention to your cycle than you do, reminding you to mark down when you get your period, and coddling you in the days leading up to ovulation.

"Satoru, it's just an estimation." you tell him, but he's got a glow in his eyes when he sees your period tracker app telling him that today's your most fertile day — if he cums in you today, it's basically guaranteed.

He researches positions that help conception, bends and pushes you into them, and fucks you deep with his thick cock, going harder on your poor hole than he normally does — grunting more than he normally does, throbbing more than he normally does... like it just awakens something primal in him, and now he's obsessively fucking you like he has no other purpose but to breed his sweet little wife.

"Nn! Satoruuu!" you whine and paw at his torso, your walls overwhelmed by the pressure of his cock splitting you open.

"Yes babyyy?" he coos, giving you a crooked, blissed-out smile as he tilts his head.

There's sweat dripping off his abs, his pink nipples are hard, his biceps are twitching, and he's running one hand through his dampened white hair as he stills inside you for a moment.

"'s too deep! T-too big!" you moan lewdly, a bit of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

"...aw, I know I'm just too big for ya, huh?" he coos cockily; hearing you tell him that he's 'too big' never gets old.

He's so determined to give you his baby that he tries everything to increase the chances; staying inside you for 5 minutes after shooting his load in, having you rest with a pillow under your back so your hips are raised — "Gotta help my lil' guys swim." he acts like an idiot about it, but sweetly so. Nothing excites him more than the idea of being a dad, except the idea of fathering your children.

After sex, when the two of you are cleaning up, Satoru feels over and massages your tummy with a small smile on his face. He's lost in thought, hair all messy and face tired like he's run a marathon, hopeful that this time he got you pregnant.

He'll pamper you like his queen, humming and going to the ends of the earth to get you anything you ask for. He really fawns over you when you're ovulating, and lays on the compliments thick while snuggling your neck and creeping his fingers up your thighs — pretty soon he'll sink them inside and stretch you out on them, preparing you for what he cutely calls "baby making" but is actually sweaty, nasty, kinky sex — there's a definite difference in the cute, snuggly sex and the literal breeding sessions no matter how much he plays it off.

"Satoru... my legs are still weak after this morning, give me a break, will you?"

"Aw come on, this is an innocent request... and if babymaking happens, it happens..." he mutters the last part under his breath.

"You're crazy."

But you know you're gonna fall for it after you take one look at his rock-hard, juicy pink, dummy big cock and those breeder balls.

He just beams victoriously when you hop over to him like a little bunny.

Satoru's pushes into you as deep as your pussy allows him, and then some more just to pressure your deepest spot, pinning your wrists down and whispering sultrily into your ear about how well you take him, how beautiful you look, how good it feels to fuck your fertile pussy knowing that he'll most definitely get you pregnant because his cum is perfect; thick and sticky and gooey and pungent, perfect just like he is — the cocky bastard.

When his creampies makes you cum, A-spot pressured with his pulsing tip, he grins so wide that you scold him about it.

"Stop grinning like a psychopath." you pant.

He just looks up at you, face hardly an inch away, and asks a dumb, smiley "D'you feel pregnant?" ... as if it happens so fast.

"Gee, I don't know, we should go again just to make sure — that was a joke, that was a joke! Nn! Satoru!" too late, he's flipping you over and slowly filling you up again.

And oh god Satoru loves sliding back in for round twos. The smell of sex and cum wafting up and hitting his nose just makes him plunge back into your cum-filled little hole with only one thing in mind and that is breeding you 'till you're stuffed to the max.

"Come on, y' gonna be a good wifey for me and get knocked up?" he rasps against your ear, thrusting his cock up into your sensitive spots until his creampies turn into whipped cream, frothed up and milky-white and smeared on your pussy lips.

Like the nasty boy he is (and always has been, even before marriage), Satoru forces your head down and makes you watch him fuck his dummy big cock into you.

"Yeah, watch that cock fill you up... look at all my cum leaking out..." he tuts, "... don't be so wasteful, baby... oh well, 'm gonna fuck it back into you anyways. Come on, let me in deeper — aw, what's wrong?" he coos when you claw at his meaty bicep.

"'toruuu, so deep! Y-you're so fucking deep, I can't think..."

His heart pangs when he hears you complain about being too stuffed, "Oh baby you don't need to think, just lay there and let me put a baby in your sweet pussy — gonna fuck you so dumb, the only name you'll remember is mine."

Of course, he has to get a creampie in every day. Sometimes even a few times a day. Sometimes even at 4 AM, and you swat him for being a horny idiot — but it takes five minutes to give in because you can hear the need in his voice when he whines "Please?" and starts humping against you, "I've got so much cum for you." he tells you and though it sounds so sweet in his soft, bedroom voice it's hard to take him as an innocent man, because his thick boner is grinding hard and hot between your plush lips.

You can bet you'll probably only get to sleep when the birds are chirping, 'cause your hubby's balls are too heavy and full of cum and he needs to drain himself inside you — oh, and you can also bet that afterwards he will be sleeping like a princess, clinging to you with his face snuggled into your tummy.

[himbosandhardwear]

This is a literal nightmare.

He can see her cheery orange sweater from the doorway, glowing under the sodium desk lamp. As if the library wasn't hateful enough, with it's enforced hush, they had to make everything hard to fucking see too. Ugh, great, she's got fucking note cards! Pink ones!

“Wheeler,” he growls at her, hoping to startle her with his slammed history book.

Unfortunately it doesn't work, only earns him a shush and a few annoyed glares from fellow patrons.

Wheeler looks up from under her lashes, quietly entertained if anything. “Munson. Glad you could finally make it.”

“Yeah well,” he straddles the wooden desk chair, “got caught up sacrificing virgins. You know how it is.”

She rests her pointed chin onto her hand. “So you trekked up to the middle school?”

Shit. Does she have a sense of humor?

“Yeah… Anyway, I'm here now. What torture have you got in store?” He eyes the note cards warily.

“Not these.” She swiftly wraps a rubber band around them and tucks them back into her bag. “I think I know what your issue is.”

“Childhood neglect?”

She gifts him with a snort. “Maybe. I was referring to your complete lack of interest in US History.”

“You can't make me care about it, Wheeler, that's not how this works.”

Her eyes do something that feels patronizing but also like maybe she knows something he doesn't.

It becomes apparent, hours later, that he shouldn't have thrown that gauntlet. Nancy Wheeler is a certified genius. No wonder St- Mmm, no.

“I can't believe you did it,” he admits after successfully passing her pop quiz. “How did you… I mean, I literally just learned all that against my will.”

“Easy. You like Tolkien, right?”

That takes him aback. He stares back at her for a second. “...yeah?”

“So you can absorb details when it's something you're interested in. All I had to do was make it interesting.”

Wow. Yeah, that actually makes sense now that he thinks about it. All she did was humanize the people involved, make them real. He couldn't care less about memorizing the dates of the battles but knowing forty-five hundred men died from Cholera that winter, seven hundred more from infection, it did something to Eddie's brain, forced it to latch on.

“Huh. What are you doing tutoring an idiot like me? You should be getting tenured at Yale or whatever.”

She does something no girl has done to Eddie since the fifth grade, she reaches out and holds his hand. He's too confused to pull away.

“You're not stupid. You're not even apathetic, not really. It's just that no one has ever bothered to teach you in a way that speaks to you. I want you to know that.”

He blinks at her. “Okay. Um. Kinda hard to keep hating you if you're gonna say shit like that.” He tries to laugh it off but she just keeps staring up at him with those big, blue eyes.

“You don't have to hate me, Eddie.”

What the fuck? Why is there a sudden undertone here?

“Sure thing, Wheeler. We should-” He doesn't have much to gather but he uses the little bit he did bring to avoid eye contact. She's gathering her things a lot slower and for some reason Eddie can't make himself leave her here. Fucking stupid white knight syndrome. “Hey, uh, how'd you know I like Tolkien?”

She doesn't look up from wedging a folder into her bag as she says, “Steve told me.”

Eddie’s nervous system goes ice fishing.

When he doesn't, can't, respond, she looks up, sees him staring, wide eyed and shaking. Instead of doing anything to calm him, she makes it worse by saying, “He talks about you more than he realizes. I might've actually been scared of you if I didn't know you have a favorite Christmas movie and that you stress bake.”

This is…cruel? He's not sure what her motive is. Shove their happy relationship in his face? She shouldn't want to do that, because she shouldn't know that Steve and Eddie were…anything. There's no way Steve told her that. The fact that he can feel that his face has gone white and he hasn't responded yet probably isn't doing him any favors.

“I can see there's some confusion happening.” Eddie nods, slowly, certain only that, if anything, he's confused. “Okay,” she drawls. “I feel like you're a cool person to talk to, that I can trust you. You're…safe?”

“Sure?” He has no idea where this is going.

“Right. You know my friend Barb,” she waits for his nod before explaining, “well we've been friends forever. Like, kindergarten forever. And one day, almost out of the blue, we get the idea to try out for Color Guard.” Yeah right. Wheeler and Holland are the last two girls Eddie can picture joining any kind of team sport activity, but he keeps following her story anyway. “We're practicing, right, and we've got our…flags…and we see each other's...flags...and we realize, we don't like…sports. So we quit and decided to do our own thing. Yeah?”

Holy shit. No way. There's no fucking way. Except Wheeler is nodding along with Eddie's shock, as if to say, ‘Yeah, you're getting it.’

He laughs, quiet so as not to alert anyone. The library is nearly empty but they're not the last ones left.

Eddie has to rub his eyes to stave off an impending headache but all in all this session has been quite eye-opening.

“That was pretty slick, I have to admit.”

She shoots him a wicked grin. “It usually is.”

“Ah gross! Don't make it weird.”

Now they're both laughing. Christ.

“I am cool. For the record. Scouts honor.” He holds up the devil horns just to make her laugh again, which she does.

“I know you're cool, Eddie. Inside scoop, remember?”

So much for their budding friendship. The reminder that Steve has said anything about their shared…whatever that was…puts him right back in the frozen pond.

“Steve and I weren't-” He lowers his voice. “That wasn't anything. I don't know what he told you but-”

“He misses you.”

Eddie's frozen guts shatter. Nancy doesn't even have the decency to let him scoop them up before she goes in for the kill.

“He'd be livid if he knew I told you that but it's true. He hates the way he ended it. Thinks you hate him for it, could never forgive him. But you wanted to hate me. Didn't you? Those aren't the feelings of a man indifferent to Steve's life.”

He trembles like an animal caught in a snare. “Why are you telling me this?”

A bittersweet look crosses her face, she looks over at the people sitting four desks over. “I know why he ended it. And…it's not like his reasons have suddenly disappeared. We both know things are precarious for us,” she meets his eye again to make sure he understands, of course he does, “but he's different now. Changed. A good friend. A person who deserves second chances. Deserves to be happy. He said you made him really happy.”

A traitorous tear slips down his cheek. He brushes it away, angry and embarrassed.

This was really fun, Eds, but I can't risk it anymore.

The worst part was, he couldn't argue the first bit. They did have a lot of fun.

God, he misses Steve too.

“If you've moved on, that's okay, I get it. No harm done, like I said, he doesn't even know we had this conversation. But, if you were wondering if he still thinks about you, the answer is yes.”

He nods. That's all he can do at the moment. She cups a tiny hand around his clenched fist and squeezes.

“Oh! Also, I'm thinking of starting an unofficial after school club. You too cool to hang out with me outside of school?”

Whiplash would feel like a pleasant massage compared to this woman, lord have mercy.

“What kinda club?” He asks gamely.

“Friends of Dorothy. You don't think it's just us waving flags, do you?”

Eddie's attention is caught mid-rant by the abhorrent sounds of Carol and Tommy H.

"Oh, Steve! Steve, oh, God, Steve-"

Eddie turns in time to see a pretty blush fill Steve's cheeks. Ah, he must have finally slept with the Wheeler chick. She's seated next to him, looking less than pleased about Steve's friends.

From what Eddie can remember, that's actually the opposite of what sleeping with Steve is really like. He's the noisy one, the one who moans and whines and whimpers when he's feeling so good.

"Fuck, Eddie, you feel so perfect-"

"Yeah, right there, Eds-"

"Keep going, I'm gonna, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie-"

"Eddie!"

"Yeah!" He turns away from King Steve and back to the rest of the Hellfire club.

"You were saying, about that cantrip?"

"Right," he says, shaking off old memories. Now isn't really the time to be revisiting them, anyway.

[eiightysixbaby]

eddie in a reindeer costume. that’s it, that’s the post. oh and he’s just like, chronically horny for you.

“Oh, look at you!”

The figure that steps out of the dressing room has your eyes lighting up, your mouth twitching as you hold your laughter off. The person on the other end of your delight is… not so delighted.

“I cannot believe this.” Eddie stands with his hands on his hips, looking down at the holiday monstrosity that is his costume.

He’d lost a bet with Steve, and they’d decided that the loser had to be the final piece to Nancy’s holiday charity event being held at Starcourt Mall.

She already had a Santa, thanks to Chief Hopper. She was going as Mrs. Claus, while you, Robin, and Chrissy had pitched in to be elves. Jonathan got off the hook easy as the designated photographer.

The only thing missing… was Rudolph.

You bring your fist to your mouth, the knuckle of your index finger between your teeth to prevent yourself from erupting into a laughing fit.

A pair of opaque brown tights clings to Eddie’s legs, a matching brown tunic of sorts on his top half. There’s a fluffy patch of white fabric at the belly, and a thick red belt around his middle. A red collar adorned with gold bells rests around his neck, and to top it all off, he has a pair of antlers on his head and a red foam ball on his nose.

The only thing that looks remotely Eddie, are the black combat boots they allowed him to wear on his feet.

“Come on, you look adorable!” you say, pinching at the meat of his bicep.

He groans, shaking his head. “I am not going out there like this. This is humiliating!” he grits, his voice coming out somewhat nasally thanks to his fake nose.

“It is not!” you insist, though your giggling gives you away.

“You’re laughing! You can’t even look at me with a straight face!” he pouts, taking in the elf costume you’re wearing.

“Okay, you look hot as fuck in your costume. Like damn, sweetheart,” he says, eyeing you up and down. You flush at his wandering eyes, giddy with his praise — even if he looks ridiculous while giving it.

“The red and green’s really doing it for you? And the hat with the built in elf ears?” you tease, knowing he just likes the way the outfit hugs you in all the right places.

“Babe, like, it’s not even fair how good you look. If I had known Wheeler was gonna put me in a pair of tights, I would’ve literally killed Harrington if it was my only way to win that bet.”

You cradle his cheek in your palm, letting your thumb rub over his skin. “Baby, it’s for the kids, okay? It’s just a few hours.”

“My entire evening is not just a few hours. These tights are gonna cut off all circulation to my fuckin’ dick by the time we’re done here,” he complains.

You shove him playfully, the bells on your outfit jangling with your movement. But he’s not done with the theatrics.

“Oh god,” he says after a pause. “I’m gonna be out of commission. I’m gonna have no dick, they’ll have to amputate.”

“Eddie,” you roll your eyes. “You are so dramatic. The tights are not gonna kill your dick.”

“How do you know that?” he asks, pulling you into him. His big arms wrap around your back, hands holding your ass loosely. “What if wearing this costume means I can never fuck you again? I think I’ll have to tell Wheeler I can’t do it—”

“Eddie!” you say again, scolding him lightly. “You are going out there, whether you like it or not.” You stand on your tip toes, pressing a kiss to his frowning mouth.

“Whyyyyy?”

“Because, it’s for the kids. Like I said. We have to do this.”

He seems entirely unconvinced as he gazes down at you, those big doe eyes of his heavy-lidded as he stares at your red lips.

“What’re you thinking about, Munson?” you ask, recognizing the growing playfulness in his eyes.

“Think we have time for a quickie?”

You press your palms to his chest, shoving him off of you with a laugh.

“I am not fucking you while you’re wearing antlers. Or that big ass red nose.”

“Okay, rude!”

He doesn’t have time to protest any further, because the rest of the group has come to find you. You hear a muffled chuckle from behind you, and you spin around in your green elf boots to face the culprit.

“Aw, well aren’t you just the beacon of holiday spirit!” Steve says, grinning like the devil at your boyfriend.

“I’m actually going to murder you. In cold blood,” Eddie retorts, scowling at the only person not in costume, save for Jonathan. “This isn’t even fair. I have to wear this and Steve just gets off the hook?”

“You lost the bet, Eddie,” Robin chimes in. “A deal’s a deal.”

“Come on, Rudy,” Jonathan pipes up. “We’ve got some Christmas cheer to spread, so get your best smile on.”

“I hate all of you,” Eddie deadpans.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy says, motioning all of you in the direction of your photo-op setup. “You’ll get over it.”

You link your arm with his, squeezing. You stop him from walking ahead, tiptoeing to get your mouth level with his ear.

“As soon as this is over, you can have me however you like,” you whisper. “But you better be the holliest, jolliest one out there tonight, or no deal,” you add, before pulling away in a flash and skipping ahead to catch up with Chrissy.

“Oh god, you can’t be putting that in my head right now!” he groans from behind you.

You hear his collar jingling as he starts to move.

“Wait up!”

[dwaekkicidal]

hihii ! i love the way you write hybrid skz, it’s just so fun to read & i eat it up everytime 😚🫶 !!

lowkey might be cliche LMAO but i’m obsessed w the thought of fox!innie & bunny!reader, either reader is in her heat & innie is being a little horny shit or .. reader is sick of his bullshit & ends up bouncing on his dick until they’re both whimpering messes ><

if i cant have this, whats the point in being alive. (im kidding) (im not) thank you for this anon i love you so bad

also this is gender neutral! i talk about breeding but fox!jeongin thinks if he tries hard enough, he can and will get you pregnant. no matter what. :)

alpha fox!jeongin who smells your heat days away. that in itself is enough to get him going but when he sees you start to nest, in his bed, he absolutely loses his mind

he gives you no time to say anything before he's dragging you to said nest, tossing you onto it and settling himself on top of you

he starts off just hovering above you as he plants each kiss, hickey, and bite to your neck. he's insanely impatient and will have you bent over and impaled on his cock no longer than a few minutes after having pinned you to the bed.

depending on what you're wearing he might start fucking you within a few seconds- he'll yank your top off and will simply push your underwear to the bottom of your ass and sink into you fully, no prep because he wants you to really feel all of him <3

and he's so mean when he fucks you!!! switches between either tangling a hand in your hair and shoving your face into your nest OR grabbing a tight hold at the base of your bunny ears and pulling, forcing you to arch your back for him

his cock is nestled so deep that you can feel him in your guts, your stomach eventually hurting from how hard he pounds into you and from how much he cums inside of you

and speaking of cum, don't you dare even think about wasting any of it. deep down he knows its inevitable that it will spill out, especially because he cums actual buckets every time, but also because he cums into you over and over and over again

however! that wont stop him from getting easily pissed off when he sees a drop of his cum venturing too far from your puffy hole >.<

youll be lucky if thats enough for him to pull out for a second, but more often than not it leads to him pulling you upright and flat against his chest so he can land a few slaps to your thighs while he's still deep inside of you, his hips no longer moving

says shit like; "what do you think you're doing??? ungrateful bunny. i put all this effort into fucking you silly and all i ask is that you keep my pups safe." with a tight grip on your hair holding you perfectly still so he can whisper it into your ear.... ugh..

if youre too out of it and dont answer hes gonna growl and start fucking you hard. his free hand is gonna drop to your thighs and scoop up any loose cum so he can shove those pretty fingers down your throat- "since this little hole wont accept my cum, that slutty mouth'll have to do."

when he does eventually get tired, literal hours later..., you're finally allowed a break! he lets you do your thing in the bathroom, growling to himself at the thought/knowledge that you're gonna be ridding yourself of- wasting- a lot of the cum he just allowed you

but oh! whats that? jeongin is starting to feel a little hot and under the weather by the time you come back in the room? wait... he thinks you triggered his heat? oh. well, in that case, you can go a "few" more rounds, right? :)

it doesn't take long for him to rest his back against the headboard after dragging you back to the bed. and he'll kiss your complaints away when the action causes your nest to get messed up. he doesn't let you get too upset about it, cause he loves you to death! and if forcing you to ride his cock and take it to the very hilt is enough to stop your heart from breaking, then he will happily do so

long fingers digging into your thighs and shit eating grin spread across his face, his canines poking out slightly as he stares up at you as you ride him. and when you inevitably get too tired to continue, he's gonna use those pretty muscles to lift you and drop you onto him!

and dont worry! your pretty little whimpers and cries dont discourage him :) and thats because "you need to take it, bunny. 'm not stopping until your cute little tummy is full of me." so if you've never met a stubborn person before, you are in for a real treat with this greedy ass hybrid.

he's soooo happy... this position lets him go so deep, scratching that little itch in the back of his head about how he needs to breed you- and he's sure he's doing it thoroughly enough when your nails dig into his shoulders in overstimulation.

dont mistake his own whimpers for him running out of fuel! he's not even close to being done yet, so don't expect to get away anytime soon~ you're gonna sit right there, on your rightful throne, and you're gonna accept every. last. drop. of his offerings.

he needs to mark his somehow <3

Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

[gaozorous-rex-blog]

Oooooh, that'd be so fun! But also, this little scene popped up in my head as soon as I read, "Jazz as Oracle":

Just as Tim was about to leave the Cave after delivering the latest samples from a Rogue attack, the Bat computer's screen lit up with a picture of Oracle on it.

She... Looked so much like Jazz it hurt. Well. A very, very overworked and underpaid Jazz. Which, was exactly what one Barbara Gordon WAS. To be honest, most superheroes were. At least in this life he got a great paycheck and an actual future to go with all the shitty trauma. Hurray for trust fund babies, I guess. Even when dropping out of highschool, you can get an amazing job.

"..im?! TIM!?!"

..Ah. He spaced out while staring at her. Awkward.

"Hey Babs. Sorry about that. What do you need?"

"Are you okay, Tim?? I called you like 10 times..."

"Yeah, just a bit tired. I'm going to sleep for like a week after this case," he jokes. Like they ever had time for that much sleep, but he's incredibly tempted to go on a damn vacation from his day job just to get over himself enough to get work done as efficiently as possible again. These memories were incredibly inconvenient, especially when it involved regaining past powers when one worked on a team of POWERLESS individuals. Yeah... Life hates him.

"Living the dream right there," she jokes right back, but he can tell through her eyes that she's still worried about him. "Anyway, I'm just doing another info drop on the case, and just wanted to check in on you, what with that fight with Scarecrow a week ago... You know you can rely on the girls and I to cover for your patrol or talk to any of us about what happened if you want, right? You aren't alone, Tim. We're here for you if you need us."

Sigh. Of course. Ever since that night and after recovering enough to function, then basically telling them to fuck off in more polite words (and then later in less polite words when they kept bothering him), they've all been hounding him with all of this feel good shit they don't even actually believe in when it comes to him. He was so over it it's not even funny. He couldn't repress his bitter chuckle.

"Are you kidding me? I'm definitely not useful enough to you to ask for that sort of thing. See ya, O. I got shit to do."

And with that, he turned around, marched to his bike, and revved out of the Cave like the hounds of hell were after him. He didn't notice nor care to notice the absolutely stunned face of one Barbara Gordon as she watched him leave.

This... Definitely complicated things. Bruce was going to have a conniption. Dick... Oh, DICK... Barbara was already getting a headache over the wailing he'll no doubt be doing once he finds out what Tim thinks of them all. If she could get them all to stay alone in a room with a therapist, she'd literally beg Harley to help them with as much of their issues as possible. But it was like trying to herd CATS with these idiots. Tim especially. He was the wiliest cat of all of them. Sigh. Well there goes her already booked evening. She's so glad her couch is the comfiest cloud to rest on. She's gonna need it after this shit show of a debrief. (But if it could somehow help Tim, then she would consider it worth it.)

Screaming into the night

Danny is reborn as tim.

Tim gets his memories back near the beginning of his robin run when he still has a rocky relationship with Bruce. He’s scared and keeps his mouth shut. This goes on for years never getting the right time to be revealed.

It isn't until the scarecrow uses a new fear gas that it comes up. Tim is hit and has to relive the portal incident. He is screaming with no brakes and does not respond to anyone.

The bat family has idea what he is seeing but they do find out from scarecrows taunting that the gas makes you relive your most painful memories. The entire family is wondering when this happened and when Tim wakes up he is not going to be very forthcoming.

[fear-is-truth]

can I please request some headcannons as to what you think the Evans would be like when they’re drunk? thank you!!! :)))

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans… drunk .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ frat!kyle spencer ‧ jimmy darling ‧ james patrick march ‧ cult leader! kai anderson ‧ austin sommers ‧ peter maximoff ‧ colin zabel ‧ warren lipka

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

tate would become a fucking menace. he’d pull pranks on the other ghosts, or just plain insult them. he finds endless amusement in being a little shit, glancing over at you to see if you’re laughing too.

he’d be glued to you, practically following you room-to-room like a newly adopted puppy, even if you’re just going to the bathroom. “where’re you going?” he’d stand right outside the door, waiting for you to come back, greeting you with a lazy, lovesick grin like he hasn’t seen you in hours.

drunk tate would mutter a lot—sometimes to himself, sometimes to you. it’d be of random thoughts, little complaints, or dreamy, barely coherent things like, “can’t believe you’re real…” his words would come out slurred and soft, but he’d have this intense focus on you, clearly wrapped up in his own head.

venting. a lot of venting.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

would do his best to keep himself together, reminding you both to “take it easy,” but he’d totally stumble over his own plans. kit would try holding his drink steady, only to spill half of it, laughing it off with an, “ah, whoops!” as if it was the funniest thing ever.

his sense of humor would skyrocket, and he’d be doubled over laughing at the simplest things. someone makes a lame pun? he’s cracking up. you give him a look? pure comedy gold.

his slurred boston accent would get thicker, making everything he says sound even more sexier.

would also get extra honest and sappy, letting his emotions spill out in the most genuine way. he’d look at you with teary eyes and tell you how much he appreciates you, going on about how grateful he is to have found you.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

kyle wouldn’t get blackout drunk, he’d getting just tipsy enough to be completely adorable. his cheeks would be flushed a rosy pink, and he’d have that big, goofy grin on his face.

would start singing along to whatever song is playing.

even with a few drinks in him, kyle’s the one guy who would still keep an eye out for anyone who needs help. if he saw a random girl looking unsteady, he’d guide her to a safe spot, and if she had to throw up in the bathroom, he’d stay with them, holding her hair. then he’d call her friends to get her.

if any one of his frat brothers try and mess with you he’d literally fistfight them.

⟢ 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆.

drunk jimmy would be all over you, getting incredibly touchy, pulling you into his lap whenever he gets his hands on you. he’d slur sweet, filthy things out loud — it’s embarrassing as hell but kinda hot.

would keep drinking even after you told him to stop. “nah, babe,’m fine—jus’ one more i swear.” of course, this would end with him either passing out or vomiting.

if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way, drunk jimmy would be ready to kick some serious ass. “what’re you starin’ at, huh? you think you can just look at her like that?!” you’d have to hold him back before he got into full florida man mode.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

i think james would have crazy good alcohol tolerance.

he would be uncharacteristically handsy. insisting you to sit on his lap, arm winding possessively around your waist. he’d hold you close, running his fingers up and down your arm or resting his hand at the small of your back.

“you’re such a vision, my dear,” in that slurred, (fake) brahms accent.

james, in his drunken fascination, would suddenly become enchanted by the smallest, strangest details in the room. he’d point out the ornate carvings on the furniture or the imperfections in a painting, waxing poetic about how they contribute to the room’s “soul.” “just look at that crack in the wood,” he’d remark, “is it not beautifully flawed, just like us?” (he’s a dangerous tainted & flawed man ykwim)

handing you his cigar, he’d watch you intently, clearly enamored with the idea of you lighting it for him. he’d guide your hand, fingers lingering over yours, taking pleasure in the ritual. “steady now, darling,” he’d drawl, a pleased smirk on his face as he watches the flame catch.

would become even more extravagant with his compliments. he’d shower you with praise, admiring everything from the way you smile to the way you hold yourself. “my dearest, you bring such grace to this place,” he’d say, gazing at you with genuine adoration. “i am, as ever, your humble servant.”

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

kai would do his absolute best to act stone-cold sober, even after chugging straight vodka or something hardcore. he’d stand up straighter, make eye contact, and talk in his usual serious tone, almost daring you to suggest he might be tipsy. if he starts slurring? he’d blame it on something like tiredness to keep his ego intact.

thousand yard stare.

would get worked up over small things, flipping into-rants about whatever’s on his mind, each one more dramatic than the previous. topics vary on politics, the state of society, or how he’s totally not drunk.

when tipsy, kai would be a touch more lenient. allowing you to sit on his lap, play with his hair, maybe even cracking a slight smile at your jokes.

⟢ 𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒.

austin would absolutely start singing instead of speaking after getting a bit smashed. belting out tunes or turning every sentence into a musical number, “who’s ready for a refiiiillll~?”

every drink would require a toast, and they’d progressively get more absurd and inappropriate. “to art, sex, and whatever the fuck this cocktail is supposed to be!”

would be shamelessly flirty with everyone, but his attention would always come back to you.

⟢ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅.

his hyper ass would be bouncing off the fucking wall.

would steal people’s drinks mid-sip or rearranging furniture in the room for no reason.

“bet i can chug this entire keg and still run a lap around the earth. wanna see?”

⟢ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋.

colin’s drunk vocabulary would be filled with “erm” and “errr,” with every other sentence stumbling out in a mess of slurred words. “errr… what i—what i meant was… wait, i had it. it was, uh… gone now, but it was good, i promise.

if anyone tried to bother you or made a lewd comment, colin would get hella territorial in his tipsy state. “hey, buddy, why don’cha back off the milady, alright? she’s—she’s with me.”

would insist on carrying your coat, guarding your drink, or even offering to dance with you.

all in all, a total sweetheart.

⟢ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐊𝐀.

warren would be that guy at the party, jumping off rooftops into pools or climbing on furniture while shouting, “heyyy watch this!” he’d have no fear and thrive on being the centre of attention.

if body shots were happening, you could bet warren would be in the thick of it, grinning ear to ear.

would totally dominate beer pong.

his version of dancing would involve spinning you around wildly or grinding against you to whatever beat was playing.

sex in the bathroom or smoking dope. or both.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[lxvme]

jus thinking abt how simon ‘ghost’ riley wld be ina relationship…

hc list under cut

simon riley is said to have his mask on for oh so long in the first half of his relationship. this, i kinda see. i think he would wear his balaclava, per say, but he’d def wear those lil surgical masks everywhere. does he wear it in his house? sometimes. if he has company (rarest occasion on earth) he isn’t entirely close with, like a friend of soap’s or something, its likely you’ll be greeted with a mask. (in mw2, he did take his mask off in front of ale and rudy, though, but thats maybe bc they almost died tg 😭 civvies n friends r different) i think if you two r having sex within two months of the relationship, you’ll be seeing his face.

kinda going from above, simon riley doesnt keep his mask on to hookup. he’s not simon riley in the mask, he’s ghost. he doesn’t want for his lovie to see that he’s a ghost, if they’re showing themselves to each other. im not sure he’ll like it if you try n wear one of his masks to turn him on, either- it just wouldn’t work. even if either of u is getting head, mask stays off. (that being said, if you’re just a hookup, and not a gf of any kind, mask is on fs)

hugs. from. behind. this man, when close with his girl, will be clingy. always needs a hand on you, in fact- to prove he isn’t crazy and hallucinating, and to make sure youre safe (he’s extremely paranoid abt u getting hurt because you can b bait for him, due to his job- more on that ina minute) he also likes how small you can be compared to him, it makes him feel quite prideful he can protect his lovin’ bc he’s a big boy. BUT, continuing he’s clingy- you’re cooking? he’s latched onto u the entire time, asking if you need help. reading? his head is rested on your thighs, underneath as you hold ur book above his head. (bonus points bc he might be reading too) he’s home from literally any other place than home? well, he missed you, so ‘gimme a kiss, love,’ and then proceed to hold him, or just let him hold you. laundry? oh, well, he’s actually already done it. (housewife.)

he’s veryyy paranoid that an enemy or sum will end up taking you for bait. in fact, he’s already very hesitant to date in general- he’s not used to the feelings it brings and whatnot. (ill b expanding on this in the future) and thats why he can b extra protective- he wouldn’t be able to handle it if his pretty girl was kidnapped, all because of him? the horrors it brings to him are a little much for him to take, sometimes, so he’ll end up pushing u away for a lil while. (i genuinely live for poor bb simon)

like laundry, among other things, he’s suchhh a housewife at heart. mainly because, he likes to be clean and tidy- it helps him rid the dirty feeling that seems to linger from missions. dishes? he did them this morning, possibly in a hope to drown out those nightmares and plaguing thoughts that always seemed to shatter his mind. all in all, the man needs cleanliness. however, if youre a messy girl (in the sense that there are clothes everywhere and tossed aside blankets and pillows on every surface, sometimes a small pile of dishes in the kitchen sink, and a general ‘lived-in mess,’ also this is def not catered to how messy i am) he can definitely adapt, it’ll just take around 3 years :)

showering tg. bae adores to hold u against his chest, water dripping on both of you, while his other hand is in your hair, gently rinsing out soap. (i’m not sure whether to base my simon hcs n writing off of the comics or not, bc reboot!ghost is NOT the same 😭)

moving onnnn… simon riley is the type of boyfriend to:

stalk the absolute fuck out of every single social u have- in fact, he didnt even know what pinterest or instagram was until he saw you on it. (he’d definitely make an spam account that’s pretending to be another girl)

make you a lot of lil gifts out of his own things- keychains, a lil necklace (mhhh my hearttt) or a bracelet out of the collar of his t-shirt (he’d also def make himself a bra bracelet, if u two dont already have matching ones x)

be your handyman. no other words.

thats all i have for u lot bc i have ZEROOOO motivation, but i’d like to expand ona few more things eventually. i’ll also start writing for other cod men when simon riley loses his fucking death chokehold on me (maybe he’ll have it forever…)

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 13

Do I mourn the fact that this isn't the last chapter because it's a spooky number? Yes, yes I do. But!

Have fun!

In this we have the renovation and reopening of the club, the trial of Robin's attacker, and Steve gives the performance of his life.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

~

Construction of the new stage went smoothly with guardrails to keep the dancers from falling off and keeping the crowd from getting to handsy.

The chairs and tables were red leather and black metal fittings. The chair backs had the club logo in wrought iron. It was really cool. The wood floors where replaced by red and black tiles. The walls were painted with flames and the lighting was changed over to faux candles.

The whole vibe went from converted speakeasy to an actual Hellfire Club. When the second set of dressing rooms were finished; it would be the backup dancers on the right, because they had more costume changes to go through in a night and needed the bigger space for all their costumes and the Sins on the left.

Each Sin would have their own vanity and closet where they would have more room to change into their Sin costumes, because they tended to be more over the top. Well, all but Brian’s. Brian’s was his three piece suit, but he was a large guy, so he still needed all the space he could get.

When Steve asked where Eddie was getting all the money to do the renovations he merely grinned and tapped the side of his nose.

The truth was that Eddie had gone to Nancy’s boss and told him about her schemes. The man offered $300k to make the problem go away. Which Eddie happily took and then someone *Wayne cough cough* call in an anonymous tip to their main rival. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault that of the fifty odd people who were there that night decided to take justice in their own hands, was it?

He kept $100k of it back, and put the rest into updating the club. Upped all his insurances and made sure all his licenses would cover the bigger place, getting all his ducks in a row.

Opening night was packed to the gills, even for a Saturday night. Just like addicts needing their fix.

The three new dancers fit in seamlessly. Mason considered themselves to be non-binary so it was a bit of an adjustment getting use to the new pronouns but Eddie was proud to say he hadn’t hired a single fucking bigot among them as they all got used it. Admittedly, some quicker than others, but they all adjusted.

Steve really got along with Micaella, the new Wrath. Which privately Eddie thought was pretty hilarious considering how little he got along with Stella.

Eddie got up to the stage and pulled out a microphone. “I don’t usually do this public speaking bullshit. Singing, dancing, and playing in front of an audience is fine, it’s the talking that scares the hell out of me. Go figure.”

There were some polite chuckles.

“So why am I doing this you ask?” Eddie said, pacing back and forth on stage. “Well it’s because the club isn’t the only fresh face around here. Our Satan wasn’t given a proper introduction because we literally threw him into the deep end. So let’s give him a round of applause.”

A thunderous roar came and Steve blushed a deep red as he waved.

“I don’t stand for bullies no matter the form they take,” Eddie continued. “And when a couple of my dancers started to bully our Satan, I had to gather up the evidence I needed to make sure I fired the right people. So it pains my to say that Dagon, Leviathan and even our very own Wrath, Lamia, will no longer be preforming with us.”

There was some oohing and disgruntled mumbling on that one.

“When they endanger the life of fellow dancer,” Eddie said solemnly, “that’s line that needs to be drawn. So that’s why the guardrail was put up. It won’t interfere with your viewing pleasure. I checked.”

There was some appreciative rumbling and Eddie took that as a win.

“So to replace our little demons,” he continued, “we have Set and Kimaris. And to replace our Wrath, we proudly introduce Megera, the Fury!”

The three of them stepped forward, waving and bowing. Then they stepped back

“And to celebrate our grand return,” Eddie concluded, “we present Fairy Tails!”

There was some wolf whistling and stomping as the lights went down.

They did the fairy tales Seven Deadly Sins style and Ellie’s costumes were an absolute treat, coming off with a sultry ease.

The new additions fitting in so seamlessly that soon the audience had forgotten their counterparts in light of their new titillation.

Mason Clark was a non-binary black person whose Set was chaotic and fierce, the way they danced with Cheryl or Choronzon was electric. So much so Eddie was starting to think of changing her name to better fit the Egyptian god theme. He would just have find a really good that match their style. He was thinking Apothos or Ammit. Whichever one she liked the best.

Kyle had that sweet country boy look off the stage, cowboy boots and blue jeans. He had blue eyes and red hair. But once he got on stage all of that fell away and he was phenomenal. And if Eddie ever retired from dancing, he knew he would have his perfect replacement in Kyle. The man could move and move you in a style that was both rough and tender at the same time.

Eddie still wasn’t sure how managed it. Maybe rough wasn’t the right word. Raw. Raw was a better word. It was like he was showing you a side of himself reserved only for the stage. It was breathtaking.

The money flowed in as easily as it had before the two week closure, leaving Eddie, and by extension, Wayne feeling very relieved indeed.

So Wayne made the decision to go back to Hawkins, safe in the knowledge that Eddie now had everything under control.

~

Eddie sat in the back of the courtroom, squirming in his seat. He had never be in the gallery before, usually the defendant’s chair, so it was making him twitch.

Robin had given her testimony last week and now it was Steve turn. He wore a simple grey sweater vest over a long sleeved white button up and grey slacks. You wouldn’t have known from the look of him that he shook his ass on stage five nights a week.

The prosecutor was up first and got Steve to lay out the events of the day as plainly as he could remember them.

The defense lawyer stood up. He was slick man in a thousand dollar suit, diamond rings on almost every finger. The man screamed slime just from his appearance.

“Can you state your current employment?” the lawyer asked smugly.

“Objection!” the prosecutor cried, leaping to his feet.

“Goes toward the character of the witness,” the lawyer said.

“I’ll allow it,” the judge said dryly, waving his hand to the prosecutor’s visible displeasure.

“Hellfire Exotic Club.”

There was some twittering in the jury box but the gallery remained silent.

“And what do you do there?” the lawyer asked, standing up and walking around to the front of the table.

“I’m a dancer,” Steve said, with clenched jaw. His hands gripped the sides of the witness chair.

Eddie could tell it was taking every ounce of self-control for him not to rip this guy’s balls off. Which he was happily willing to do the job for Steve because this guy reminded him of his dad in all the worst ways.

“You strip,” the lawyer corrected, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

“Yes.”

The lawyer turned around and picked up a folder from the table and flipped through it for a moment. “It says that you were the lead dancer at the Indiana Ballet Company, is that correct?”

The room was tense as everyone waited to see where this was going. Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in the seat, taking a desperate measure not to leap over the guardrail. Robin grabbed his knee and gave it a squeeze. He looked at her and she gave him a weak smile back.

“Yes, sir,” Steve agreed, leaning further into the microphone.

"And why did you leave the Indiana Ballet Company?" the lawyer asked, throwing the folder back on the table.

"Because I tore a muscle in my shoulder," Steve replied tersely.

The lawyer rolled his eyes. "You're a dancer, why would a shoulder injury make you quit?"

"Because a male danseur must be able to lift other dancers,” he said slowly as though he was talking to a small child. “Do you know how useless a danseur who can't lift is?"

"No."

"About as useless as this line of questions is in reference to my character as a witness,” Steve bit out. “Move it along."

There was some snickering among the prosecutor’s table.

“Mr. Harrington...” the judge warned, giving him the eye.

“May I say something really quick,” Steve asked the judge, looking over at him on the bench, “before this becomes a ‘gotcha’ moment?”

“Your honor!” the lawyer huffed. “This is most unusual!”

“I think he should have a say if it’s relevant to his character,” the prosecutor said, leaning back in his chair.

“And is it?” the judge asked Steve sternly.

“Yes, your honor.”

“I’ll allow it,” the judge said waving off the defense’s further objections.

“I only started working at the club because I was fired from the rec center,” Steve said, shyly. “The bills were piling up and I needed to make a lot of money fast.”

The courtroom was a still as a statue and as quiet as death at that proclamation.

The judge turned to the prosecutor. “Is this true?”

“It is your honor.”

“So let me get this straight, counselor,” the judge said angrily, “that the reason Mr. Harrington was working at the strip club in the first place is because he was fired from the rec center for reporting your client? Do I have that right?”

“I can’t attest to the cause of Mr. Harrington’s dismissal–”

The judge cut him off with a single glare. “Do I have that right?”

“Yes, your honor,” the lawyer hissed.

“So all his working at the strip club attests to is that his firing made him desperate,” the judge said. “As Mr. Harrington said, move this line of questioning along.”

The lawyer seethed but did as he was told. He tried to work every angle to get Steve to trip up but Steve was flawless on the stand.

Eddie was proud of him. So fucking proud.

Then it was time for closing remarks and Eddie really enjoyed the prosecutor’s.

“...Not only did this man brutalize a young woman for the sheer fact she was gay,” he said solemnly, “but their subsequent firing left them destitute and having to turn to working at a strip bar to make ends meet. The sins this man has enacted upon Robin Buckley is immeasurable and despicable.”

Steve was silently crying into his silk and lace handkerchief and Robin and Eddie held on from either side.

No one was surprised when the jury returned the verdict as guilty on all charges in less than twenty minutes.

As they walked away for a little celebration, Eddie turned to Steve, “So... you’re still going to work at the club, right?”

Robin and Steve shared a glance and then burst out laughing.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve said, stuffing the handkerchief into his pocket. “My mother is a complete bitch, but she absolutely is also one of the best lawyers in the state. I have seen her coach many a client on how to cry on command. Not a single fucking tear was genuine, let me tell you.”

Eddie’s shoulders sagged in relief. “That’s is so good to hear.”

“Now let’s call the crew and have them all meet us at Kincade’s for drinks and barbecue on me,” he replied with a grin. “We have some real celebrating to do!”

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @garden-of-gay

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @novelnovella @micheledawn1975

[samandcolbyownme]

Warnings: swearing, sexting, fluff

Enjoy!

꒷꒦꒷︶˚︶︶꒷꒦˚꒦꒷︶˚︶︶꒷꒦˚︶˚︶︶꒷꒦꒷

Chris would start off your day with a cute little snap

You looked up at the building, dreading this work day that was arriving in just a few minutes. Your phone lit up with a notification - a snapchat notification, from Chris. You smiled as you clicked on it, knowing it’ll make your day go somewhat better.

He would try and keep your mood up when you told him you were stuck in meetings all day, bored out of your mind.

This meetings is going to be the death of me I swear to god, you type out onto the snap of your shoes and the floor. You lock your phone, resting your chin in your hand. You zone out until you feel the vibration from your phone on your lap, unlocking it to see a snap from Chris that makes you fight back smiling like an idiot in front of everyone in the room.

He would fill you in on his day, but also not take away from yours.

You leaned back in your chair, letting out a quiet sigh as your thumbs tapped the screen. You made sure to glance up every so often to make it seem like you’re somewhat interested in what is being said, I’m literally going to rip my hair out. I’m sooooo bored

He would be very good at distracting you to help the time pass, but he would also feel bad about possibly getting you in trouble.

I know a way you can help me, something that’ll help pass the time AND make me more exited to see you.., you bite your lip, glancing around to make sure the people sitting around you aren’t being nosey. Your heart starts to race as you know what can of worms you’re opening in the middle of a meeting, but that was the fun in it, right?

Once he got the official go, he wouldn’t hesitate.

No, Baby. I won’t get in trouble. I promise, You gently bounce your leg, jotting down some words as you waited the first snap of the session. Once your phone vibrated, you moved in towards the table more, leaning back to look at the screen. You raised a brow at his snap, clearing your throat as you looked up from reading it. You shifted around in your seat, looking around and nodding like you were paying attention before going back to responding, I bet I could do a lot more than that lollipop could, baby.

His snaps would progressively get more sexual the more he aches for you - just like you ached for him.

Your thighs squeeze together as you tap the screen slowly, you have no idea how bad I want the picture of you in between my legs to come to life right now, you laid your phone face down in your lap. You brought your hand up to cover your lips as you couldn’t fight back the smirk the notification brought on, but once you opened his snap, you couldn’t hide it.

He would purposely say things that he knows would get your cheeks to flush into that cute shade of pink that he loves so much.

You felt your cheeks heat up. You reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face as you lean over next to the lady beside you, “I’ll be right back. I need to run to the restroom.” She gives you a nod and you hurry out of the meeting room. You bite your lip as you tap the screen, one upping him, I just had to leave the room, fuck I want this day to be over with. I want you so fucking bad, baby.

He control himself after a while, totally forgetting that you were, in fact, still at work and not at home.

Your eyes widen at the purple block that appears under his name, mentally cursing yourself for getting into this. You roll your chair forward, making sure your volume is all the way down, along with your brightness, before tapping the video.

Chris is laying in his bed, his hand pulling up his shirt before teasingly sliding down his sweats. He doesn’t show anything - yet - but it was enough to have the walls of your pussy clenching around nothing. You take a quick snap and bite down on your lip as you type quickly, you fucking tease, keep doing that and I’ll have you watch as I get off without your help.

By the end of the day, you were ready for him, and he was ready for you.

Practically ran to my car. I’m on my way, you send the snap and immediately start your car, starting your drive to finally finished what was started.

꒷꒦꒷︶˚︶︶꒷꒦˚꒦꒷︶˚︶︶꒷꒦˚︶˚︶︶꒷꒦꒷

Slacked towards the end, but it’s something I wanted to get out. Thank you for reading! I love you so much!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[bitkahuna]

Draco was far more than just angry. He was the reason that Gryffindor’s Golden Boy Harry fucking Potter had a burn across his forearm that he got while saving everyone from Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup. But Harry had even more dirt on him than that. They’d kissed. Sure, there was the embarrassment of getting locked out of the school and getting stuck in a tree, but Draco Malfoy, the son of some of Voldemort’s favored Death Eaters, had kissed Harry fucking Potter.

And of course, everyone would believe Harry’s version of the story. He did, after all, violently burn Harry’s arm and probably had him cornered and afraid in the alley. He was ruined. Draco’s reputation with Death Eaters as well as the rest of wizarding society was absolutely ruined.

Harry, however, only stood there, incredibly confused as to why Draco seemed to be getting more and more stressed out. “You alright?”

“I-yes. Obviously. Of course.” His voice hitched slightly as he looked around before grabbing Harry by his other arm and dragging him off the stairs, taking him into a lonely corridor. “You’re obviously not going to tell anyone, right?” He spoke as if it benefitted them both for it to stay a secret.

Harry only furrowed his eyebrows as a smile came upon his face. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he put that charming boyish smile on, just as he did for the cameras. “Tell anyone? Malfoy, I hadn’t planne-”

"Don't play dumb." Draco snapped, cutting him off. His voice was ice cold and stern, as if he were in any position to be making demands. It was something he’d learned from Snape; always act like you’re in control, especially when you aren’t. “I know your type, Potter. You’ll hold this over me until you get what you want. What buys your silence?” He couldn’t hold back the bitterness that invaded his tone.

Harry eyed Draco warily. A desperate animal was a dangerous one, and for as much as he liked kissing Draco, he wasn’t stupid. No doubt the boy could hex the daylights out of Harry if he wanted. "I’m not out to get you." He cringed on the inside as he realized the smile probably didn’t come off the way he intended.

In fact, the idea of ruining Draco hadn’t even crossed his mind. For everything he’d done in the last few years, ruining Draco almost felt … small. It was a horrible thing to think about another person. But, in his opinion, it wouldn’t be worth the effort. There’s a literal Death Eater who actively plans to kill Harry, roaming around the school. Why bother with Draco? “I don’t think I understand.” He spoke lamely.

"Enough games, Potter. You aren’t as stupid as I say, and we both know it.” He glared. “You have enough to destroy me. The …” he trailed off with a light blush, “what happened in Hogsmeade. My parents would disown me if they knew! Our standing would be ruined! Oh, and if the world knew I was the reason the Golden Boy got burned!"

Harry didn’t bother correcting Draco about the burn not being his fault. He knew it wouldn’t help and it wouldn’t change his mind either. Frankly, thinking back on Knockturn Alley, the world of upper-class wizards seemed incredibly similar to that of crooks. Just with high-class crimes and faux pas in fancy ballrooms, instead of real crimes in pubs and alleys. Though, remembering that Malfoy’s circle is full of Death Eaters and sympathizers, it probably also had quite a few real crimes thrown in there.

“You could ruin me and my family with a few simple words.” Draco continued, knowing how the reporters and journalists loved interviewing Harry. A story like this could start a wildfire.

-----

“You’ll be my potions partner.”

Draco blinked, a look of disgust coming about his face. But Harry continued before he could respond. “I hate potions, you’re better at it, Snape hates me, he likes you, so be my partner.”

The blond’s jaw dropped as, frankly, it was a fair point. “Fine. Just for this semester. And you’d better follow my instructions exactly!”

“Deal.”

[eternalera]

smmallll singer/popstar clownzy au snippet for funsies not gonna make this into a full fic... but it's fun to write :)

"So there's someone before us is what you're saying," Clown huffs, he looks over to Mid who's only reply to him is a slight nod as she seems to wave the rest of it off. "Something 'last minute' and by that they mean they forgot to tell us until now," She explains, she's scrolling through her phone. Zam leans over as if to try and see but she promptly smacks him away and shoves it on her pocket, this time crossing her arms as she glances over to Leo. "Yeah, it's probably for the best anyways, Zam doesn't even know what songs we're playing yet-" Leo's cut off from a shout by Zam. "You guys never confirmed it!" He shouts accusingly. They all ignore the shout. Clown sighs in annoyance and leans back in his chair crossing her arms in frustration. "So when are we on then?" "Relax, it's not that big of a deal. There are tons of people here tonight, big names too," Leo reasons but the doesn't seem to satisfy Clown. "Anyways quit pouting, we'll be up in like 30," Leo tilted his head back looking at the bright lights ahead of him. "Huh, easy for you to say-" Mid shushes him promptly looking over to the screen. "Look they're playing," Clown looks up to the screen provided for them to watch, he sees Vitalasy, Subz, and... he doesn't recognize the third person but they seem interesting to say the least, white hair and purple eyes, they're bound to stand out from the crowd. He takes the mic in his hands and laughs a little nervously as Vitalasy shoves it into his hands before squirming off of the stage with a giggle. He taps the microphone which somehow gets the crowd to go fucking wild everyone's giggling and laughing and soon enough he begins talking. "Wow... so many people here tonight huh-?" he barely finishes it before everyone starts cheering and soon enough an easy smile pulls itself onto his face. "Well I'm glad to see that everyone's having fun so far, you'll have to pardon Vitalasy he's doing uh..." he glances over to Subz who very helpfully shrugs. "Doing... things, getting something- so anyways for anyone who doesn't know me -- which I assume is a lot-" wrong answer, everyone shouts in response but they continue anyways. "My name is Branzy and it's lovely to meet all of you," The smile forms on his face with such genuine ease that for a moment Clown feels his heart stutter at the motion. It's been a while since he's seen someone actually enjoy this job, this should be interesting, and interesting it was. The whole time was occupied by the crowd going crazy over the three of them and Branzy in particular. He looked over to Mid and she opened her mouth to speak but Zam beat her to it. "Oh my god have you never met Branzy before?" Zam asked in disbelief -- Clown doesn't get a chance to answer. "You have to meet him, he's like one of the coolest people ever! Oh my god- he's like practically my father y'know? He gives me so much advice and stuff and like- he's really good at it too and-" "You're sounding stalkerish," Leo butts in but Zam blows him a raspberry. "You have to meet him at the end of this performance Clown, trust me he's literally like the best person ever," Zam's eyes brighten and Clown looks back over to the screen. He's interested to say the least so... "Sure, why not," He's interested after all.

so probably never gonna write in this au again... but yeah... TROPES!! i love em :)

[robotpussy]

why did some guy tell me me smile/I look like I'm going to kill someone at the train station

[coffeeghoulie]

a bunch of unmasked ghoul pictures from drag talk last night (I AM A CHANGED PERSON AND I DO IT AGAIN TONIGHT)

@st-danger as promised <3

[mars-ipan]

god i cannot wait to be off these steroids…

[tovarishch-dyke]

I’m like Johnny Truant in the tags of every goddamn post I make or reblog on this site and I’m not apologizing. If you want me to apologize come over to my house and you can talk to the minotaur about it

[lautakwah]

hate when customers talk to me in a tone like they think im an idiot but when i give the same energy back theyre like "Uhm... That's rude... Nothing personal but--"